


Return of the Riders

by Elorablemonster



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe- Eragon, Dragon Riders, Dragons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:34:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22491625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elorablemonster/pseuds/Elorablemonster
Summary: When five ordinary people find five mysterious stones, their whole lives are turned around. Can these strangers come together to fight to save the shattered remains of their world?
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The fic no one asked for, but I really wanted a Voltron/Eragon story. I realized I would have to write it myself  
> I will be updating at least once a week

**Prologue- The Beginning of the End**

“Please Zarkon!” Alfor’s voice cracked at the end of his friend’s name. He felt Altea roar to the other, echoing his plea. And deeper, in the deepest parts of their connection, he felt her emptiness. They both knew there was no getting through to their old friend, no getting him to stop what had already begun. It would end here, one way or another.

She dodged another bite, her size not slowing her down. Briefly, Alfor hoped her older status would help them escape the deranged pair hunting them. Then white hot pain flashed through their shared conscious. They were falling now. What remained of her wing spraying blood into the night sky. Terror, pain, frustration, and spreading through it all regret.

Altea spread her torn and bleeding wings, a scream bubbling deep within her throat as she tried to slow their rapid descent. Alfor wanted to beg her to stop. But a dragon rider always knew. She was dying. If they both fell to the earth, Alfor would be broken too. Fierce love flashed through the pain, and he gripped her scales tighter as tears welled up. “Goodbye old friend.” He whispered, the earth rising up to meet them. 

Alfor dragged himself out from under the broken body of his dragon, touching her reverently. It was just like her. To sacrifice herself for the greater good, but more than that. To sacrifice herself for her rider. Briefly Alfor thought the pain would overwhelm him. To feel a part of him die… Well he could almost understand the madness standing before him.

Zarkon stepped from the twisted black dragon, his sword dragging through the dust. Alfor could still see the blood dried to it's black blade, and his heart twisted harder. The last dragon rider stood up, his broadsword raised in defiance. To his credit, Zarkon didn’t laugh at the pitiful elf. He merely raised his own sword.

“Zarkon... “ Alfor started. He looked upon his friend, seeing the glowing insanity in his eyes, the corruption spreading purple vines through his skin. He was too late. His weakness lead them here. And he had been too weak to end it here. White and black sparked against each other. It was hardly a battle. Zarkon parried his blows with ease, never speaking. And finally Alfor felt his sword flung from his hands and he stood there before his best friend. 

It was raining he thought briefly, the flashing arc of black coming for him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up. “Allura, my daughter…. I’m sorry.” And the last dragon rider fell.

  
  


**Chapter 1- Something Lost, Something Found**

Lance had always loved the ocean. He knew that was kind of a given, what with being born into a fisherman’s family. Honestly he probably knew how to swim before he could walk. But it was more than that to him. The lull of the waves, the feeling when he dived, the smell. He loved it all. He knew this beach like the back of his hand.

If you asked Lance if he knew that today was the day his whole life would change, he probably would’ve laughed until he cried. He was Lance, a fisherman’s son. How big a life change could he get. He couldn’t even afford new shoes. But it was.

Something about the ocean called to him stronger than normal. He was supposed to go hunting with his brother Marco, his bow was strung and leaning against their hut. And yet… the temptation was too great. Quickly, he raced to the foaming edge, carefully stripping down. 

A giggle interrupted his thoughts, and he paused, his shirt half off. “Plaxum? What are you doing here?” His brow crinkled in confusion. His old friend had recently gotten a job inland to help with her families stress. Lance hadn’t expected to see her so soon. Her two braids flipped as she shook her head playfully at him. “Just enjoying the view!” She called back. Lance chuckled at that, striking a pose on the soft sand, his bronze skin glowing in the sun.

Lance wasn’t stupid. He knew Plaxum wasn’t into him. But he was a flirter, and she was a cute girl. He mentally shrugged. No shame in showing off a little. When he was younger, he had thought they were going to get married. But that was before he realized how bad the world was getting. Lance struggled to keep a smile on his face as he posed ridiciously for his friend. His train of thought didn’t need to darken her day.

After a few minutes of catching up, they finally parted. Plaxum none the wiser about Lance’s worries. He gazed out into the waves. He knew just the thing to make him feel better. He slowly strode out into the water, taking a deep breath before plunging in. It was cool against his skin. Not cold like in the north, but compared to the hot air and the hotter waves coming off the sand, the water felt cooler. He cut through the water with ease, not forcing himself against the current, but letting the pull take him further.

Finally, once he was past the break he relaxed, floating up. He could almost imagine Marco calling to him. He grimaced. His family couldn’t afford for him to be slacking off. Gazing into the deep blue beneath him he pondered. It was a little early for pearl gathering. But even one could get them enough funds to get through the colder months. Carefully, he tread the water, debating. Eventually the pull was too strong.

He filled his lungs slowly. Taking deep measured breaths, and slowly exhaling, trying to stretch his lungs, to fully use them. There was a reason he was the best diver in his family. When he felt confident enough, he sucked in more air and dove beneath the water. It was soothing, so soothing he could almost forget his worries. Something about the feeling of being underwater made him feel whole.

It didn’t take long for him to propel himself to the bottom, hands brushing the sandy floor. If he looked up now, he could see the sunlight dappling through the water overhead. Instead he busied himself looking for clams that might hold treasures. He exhaled a little, bubbles rising around him. A curious fish brushed against his calf and he refrained from giggling at the tickle of scales against his skin. 

He gazed slowly, his eyes burning from the salt. It was too early for the dolphins to be back. He could remember the pod the last time they made their way through his waters. They often guarded him while he swam. It was a nice gesture, but sharks had never really bothered him. Lance shook his head, strands of dark brown swirling around his face. Focus, looking for pearls.

Slowly he let himself rise, exhaling the whole while. He had wasted too much time thinking. He broke the surface and sucked in more air. He had to focus not play. His family needed him. Then it was back down to the one place he felt he really belonged. 

Lance was still lazily sweeping the sandy ocean floor when he saw it. It looked like a rock, which considering it's the ocean, wouldn’t be out of place. But this rock was the color of the ocean waters, and it looks like it was glowing. Delicately, he pulled himself closer, sand puffing up as he pressed his hands into it. 

He had never seen such a smooth stone in his life. Even the ocean, with it's coarse sands and constant motion couldn’t have smoothed a rock like this. Lance carefully reached out, his hands trembling through the water. Nearly a foot long, polished and glowing. He knew what this was. He had heard the stories for years. If he knew what was good for him, he would just keep swimming, forget what he found. It would be safer for him and his family, and safer for… He cut that train of thought off. It wasn’t safe to even think of it.

He started to swim away. And then he stopped, feeling the tug of invisible strings. Could he really leave it? If the rumors were true then perhaps death wasn’t the worst that could happen. Quickly, before he could change his mind or run out of air he clutched it close to his chest and rose to the surface.

It wasn’t until Lance was standing firmly in the sand with his arms wrapped around his discovery that everything began to shift into place. He nearly dropped it, and then shrieked again as he juggled to catch it. He cradled the stone back against his chest, his heart racing. The beach was empty, he could hear noise from their shack, but he could avoid his family easily. He noticed his bow was gone, so Marco had to have left without him.

Carefully, he strolled into his house. The kids must be in the big room, which left him plenty of time to hide the blue stone. He couldn’t think of it as anything else. Eyes shifting over the sleeping area, he grimaced. Why did he think this was a good place to hide anything? With five kids there wasn’t exactly a lot of privacy.

Lance wrapped the stone in his extra shirt and slipped back out. The air was finally cooling, the sun beginning to set. It wouldn’t get much cooler than this though, surely it was safe to leave it outside. He found a large circle of ferns, and carefully nestled the stone, hiding it away. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He murmured softly.

  
  


Hunk was never going to get used to the army marching through his town. Something about the sharp movements, the thundering steps, the clank of the armor.. It all made him anxious. He could almost hear his mother’s comforting words, and he sucked in air before rushing home. It wouldn’t be good if he was caught staring again.

Hunk could remember a time before the army came down. A time when the streets were bright and happy, and the people didn’t turn white with fear every time they heard a loud noise. But that was many years ago, and it seemed like it was getting worse. He shuffled along the dirt path faster. He didn’t like leaving his home for too long. It was scary being away from his family with the soldiers mindlessly walking around.

Ducking his head, he stepped into their home. It was clearly built for smaller people, and Mama had joked that Hunk was going to need a head of stone considering how often he knocked his head into the door frames. “ Mama, ʻO wau wau ka home.” (Mom, I am home) Hunk called out into the seemingly deserted house. He could smell fresh baked bread, so he knew his mother was somewhere in the area. 

Mama Garett strode in from the back, dusting off flour from her front. “Welina, ʻO kaʻu keiki!” (Welcome my son) She gathered her son into her arms gently, but firmly. She knew how nervous Hunk got after seeing the army. Hunk leaned into her firm grip, relaxing slightly. Mama always gave the best hugs. Gently she patted his face, showing him time was up. He straightened, and smiled sheepishly at her. 

“I need you to do something for me little one.” Her voice sounded lilting when she spoke in the common tongue. Hunk held back a grimace, hoping she didn’t need him to go back into town for something. His mother seemed to notice, and her large dark eyes softened as she gazed at him. “I need you to head into the fields and pick some greens for dinner.” She finished, sighing at the thought of going into town herself. Hunk straightened, not realizing he had sagged at the idea of seeing the Galra again. “Alright Mama, I love you.” They touched foreheads together, and then Hunk was off.

It didn’t take long for Hunk to get to the harvest fields, since his home was close like all the other field worker’s houses. He brushed a light hand over the golden wheat, and thought fondly of how his mother could make anything delicious. So distracted he was by the thoughts of food, he completely missed the half buried stone, and tripped right over it. He caught himself before bashing his face into the dirt, and turned to give the stone a dirty look. To his surprise, it was as golden as the wheat stalks, shining even with the dirt he had kicked over it. 

Gently he brushed the dust off, admiring the shimmering rock before him. He had never seen gold, not personally, his family wasn’t that well off. But he had heard of it, and this stone seemed like it might be solid gold. Carefully he dug it out, already imagining what he could buy for his mother once he sold such a large piece of gold. It was longer than he had expected, and thus it took longer to free it. His fingers brushed over the smooth finish, and a chill went through him. He had never seen anything so flawless in nature before.

Frustrated at himself, he stamped down his anxiety. There was nothing magic here. He was safe. Carefully moving the food he had collected, he reverently placed the stone in his bag. Almost without thinking, he carefully covered it in grain stalks, hiding it beneath them. It wouldn’t do to get it stolen, he told himself, but there was something else there too. A warning at the back of his mind. 

Walking back, he took his time, daydreaming about nothing and everything at the same time. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that the smell of smoke broke him from his reveries. He dropped his bag and began to run. That pesky part of his brain screaming at him as he turned the corner. Hunk froze, his body taut. His home was in flames, tongues licking the sky. Beyond that he could see the light and smoke above his town. Was everything gone?

He took two stumbling steps towards his house, the heat hurting even from this distance. “Mama?” He called out, gasping as smoke curled around him. A low cracking noise, and time seemed to slow down. Hunk could only watch in shock as the house crumpled in on itself with a burst of ash and smoke billowing up. His whole life up in flames. Hunk did what he always did best. He ran away.

  
  


Pidge slid out from her parent’s bed, trying to not disturb her mother. She knew that if she looked hard in the dim morning light she would see the tear stains down her mother’s cheeks. She probably had matching ones. Days were easy, you could bog yourself down with things to do to forget. But nights? When there was nothing to do but try to sleep? That’s when things got rough fast.

She rubbed her face hard, trying to erase last night from her eyes. She hadn’t planned on going to bed at all. Nightmares were worse then fatigue. But she had heard her mom softly crying for Samuel, and she had given up and crawled into bed with her sleeping mother.

She frowned at the subtle marks on the bedpost. One per month since her father and brother went missing. The Kerberos Mission. Pidge ran a finger along the marks. Eleven marks too many. She ran her finger over one more time, a new ritual, and set out on her day. 

One of the many uses of looking like a child was no one paid any attention to you. Pidge didn’t mind at all. If she got caught, she was sure she would “Go Missing” just like Matt and Sam. She grimaced as a soldier nearly ran her over, and slipped to the side of the road. Gazing up she saw the city rising for the morning.

She hated Central Command. She had hated it before her family had been split up, but now it made her sick. She knew that the Empire had something to do with her brother and father going missing. Matt’s secret code had hinted at that. She shivered to herself. What she was about to do could get her killed, her mother killed, and if the empire was holding Sam and Matt, they definitely would be killed.

Pidge swallowed down her fear. The only way she could help her family was to follow Matt’s instructions. She touched her heart, thinking sadly about how torn her mother would be in the days to come. Her note wouldn’t give much comfort. Her foot caught on a brick, and she stumbled into a wall. No point in regretting how she said goodbye. She knew this was the only way. Carefully she slipped into the crevice Matt had told her of and began her journey for real.

The trip into the heart of the castle seemed to stretch on for days. Pidge knew that it was her fear making time stretch on, but at the same time the less logical part of her brain squirmed at the idea of being trapped. Then she saw a light up ahead.

Sticking carefully to the shadows, she watched as several galra guards marched around the boxes in the middle. She sat and bid her time, no point in rushing it now. Then she heard the siren going off. Right on que. The soldiers fled their posts, racing to get to the fire now roaring in the banquet hall. They didn’t even notice the young girl watching. Perks of being invisible.

Shaking, she raced over and grabbed a box. It burned in her hands and she dropped it startled. Matt hadn’t told her this might happen. Her eyes raked over the other boxes, and she grabbed one with golden leaves decorating the top. Strangely, this one didn’t burn at all. It felt like it was made for her hands. Footsteps echoing down the hall interrupted her thoughts, and she shoved the box under her shirt and fled.

At the opening of the crevice she halted for a moment, catching her breath. She carefully opened the box and stared at the smooth green egg. Carefully, she lifted it from it's cage, and tucked it into her clothes, firmly wrapping it to her body. Only then she strolled out. She was careful to walk slowly out of the city, and more careful not to cradle the egg beneath her clothes. Her only chance was to be unnoticeable.

She paused at the gates, and turned back to the city that had been her family’s prison for so many years. With a feral smile, she flipped it off. It was immature but it made her feel a little better. Pidge’s eyes trailed over the area she knew her mother would be waking up in. Moisture burned her eyes, and she rubbed them furiously. No turning back now. With that, she turned and walked into the forest, hoping to never see this hell hole again.


	2. Chapter 2- Wave Goodbye

Lance wasn’t sure how he managed to fall asleep. Excitement at his discovery buzzed beneath his skin. He was so fidgety even Luis, who normally was oblivious to everything, noticed his twitchy behavior. Lance excused it as surprise at being able to see Plaxum again, and everyone left it at that. 

Apparently he had managed to fall asleep though. As he was rudely woken by a swift kick to the ribs. Grunting, he folded in on himself as best he could scrunched between Marco and Veronica. Eyes bleary, he gazed over his knot of siblings, trying to figure out where the foot came from. Maria was still shaking. He gently reached around Veronica and rubbed his baby sister's shoulder, trying to soothe her back to a peaceful slumber. He didn’t remember a time Maria didn’t have nightmares, although the kicking was new. He grimaced and rubbed his sore ribs. Not exactly a great way to start the day.

It took him walking outside to the soft light of morning for him to remember. Glancing back at his home, he smiled. No one else seemed to be up yet, which meant it was the perfect time. With that, he grabbed some snacks and headed out. He had to see his gem today, or he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else.  
Lance was more at home in the water than in the forest. His long legs seemed to catch every trailing vine, or loose stone.The dim light definitely didn't help. He supposed he would be faster if he could actually see where he was going. Thankfully, he had gone hunting many times, and knew his way to the fern patch. Getting there without ripping his pants? That was another issue.

After a sweaty and curse filled trip, he finally arrived, rain starting to fall from the sky. He searched the woods surrounding him first, anxiously waiting for the soldiers to pop out and grab him. But the forest was quiet and peaceful, no soldiers to be seen. With that out of the way, he hurried over to his hiding spot. It was still nested in his shirt, hidden from sight.

Gently he unwrapped his shirt, staring at the beautiful colors. It wasn’t as pure blue as he once thought, but somewhere between a teal and aqua. He didn’t have much experience with gemstones, but he thought his gem was the prettiest in the world. He ran his fingertip gently against the smooth surface, the rainfall damping it. To his surprise, he thought he felt a shudder deep within. Lance jerked his hand back, frightened he had done something.

It quickly became apparent that Lance had nothing to do with it, as the shudders began to grow stronger, until the whole thing was shaking. He stumbled back, landing on his ass, eyes wide and unblinking. A cracking sound broke the quiet morning, quickly followed by more. Finally the stone shattered. 

If anyone asked Lance how it had happened, he would’ve lied. Claimed she was graceful from her first moments. In reality? She fell head first out from her egg. He could only stare in awe. A disgruntled squeak surprised him, and he gaped at the fragile looking creature. A dragon. A real life dragon, right in front of him.

She was about as long as his forearm, mostly tail from the looks of it. Her scales shone with the same gemlike quality of her egg. She stretched her wings out, and began carefully licking the remaining liquid from them. Her head was triangular, and when he reached out to touch her, he found himself speared by green eyes. She didn’t snarl though, just cocked her head and sneezed loudly.

Lance knew the laws. He knew the legends. And he even knew the punishments by heart. But sitting there, with a dragon in front of him. He found himself surprised. His head and his heart were both united for once. He knew he could never give her up to the Galra. He would rather die than let such a majestic being be used for evil.

He wasn’t sure how long he watched her carefully groom herself. It might have been seconds or hours. But once again he found himself reaching out. Her eyes followed his hand, and he noticed she didn’t seem frightened. If anything her eyes shone with delight. She reached her head forward and met him halfway. 

The second his hand connected with her scales he felt like ice was ripping through his skin. He tried to scream, to rip his hand away. Anything to release the energy rolling through his veins. But he was helpless, the icy feeling making him unable to move, to think, to do anything but endure. It seemed to take forever. Like time had stopped for him to stay in agony.

Eventually it did end. His arm tingled, and he found himself unable to move his hand. He watched in awe as the silver oval shimmered into view on his hand. He had heard of the gedwëy ignasia of course. Everyone who knew the legends knew of the silver palm, the mark of the dragon rider. He sharply looked up at the dragon, who seemed a little smug.

Lance knew all of the myths by heart. And so, with those in mind, he reached his mind. To his amazement, he felt her brush back. He was right to call her a female, thank the gods. He would’ve felt silly calling a dragon by the wrong gender. Before he could think more on it, he felt her brush his mind again. Not a word really, but a feeling. Hungry. He laughed out loud, and brushed her scales again.

No one had spoke about how the bond felt. In all the legends, in all the stories. Lance supposed there was no way to describe it. It was like he had been missing a piece of him his whole life, and he never realized until he was whole. He gently brushed against her mind again. Food. He focused hard, trying not to think of the word, but the idea. She chirped at him, and he applauded himself before tossing her a strip of jerky.

He stayed as long as he could. Using their practice, he asked her to stay hidden. He felt confusion and a bit of concern, but she didn’t argue with him. Just sighed and burrowed deeper into his shirt. Lance turned and walked home, careful not to look back at her. It felt awful being apart. He felt worse the further he walked, his mind running wild with terrible things that could happen. Everyone knew that those who lost their bondmate often went mad.

Right before he breached the treeline, a faint hint of danger made him freeze in his tracks. He didn’t move his head at all, just shifted his eyes along the beach. There. Three galra soldiers walking towards his home. Terror licked at his nerves, and he fought the urge to run and hide. There was no way they knew about the dragon. He hadn’t told anyone. A worrisome thought wormed it’s way front and center to his mind. If the rumors were true. If Emperor Zarkon used magic to track the eggs… Then surely he would know that one had hatched.

Lance could only watch frozen as the soldiers walked into his home. He dared not run back to the hatchling. She was a baby and ill equipped to deal with his panic. He also could not run to his family. If Zarkon did know he was a rider. His thumb rubbed against the cooled silver mark on his palm. Well if Zarkon knew, his family would be gone before he took another step. So he waited, anxiously watching.

The sun was high overhead by the time the soldiers left. Lance waited for many heartbeats before he dared step out of the shaded forest. He glanced down the beach again. Empty. He ran to his home, long tan legs eating up the distance.

Bursting in, he stopped in his tracks. The normally cozy home was wrecked. Clothing was tossed everywhere, plates shattered on the packed sand floor. And in the center of it, Luis held a cool jug to Marco’s bruised face. Lance could only helplessly stare.

It didn’t take long for his family to notice his appearance. Marco shifted, his hand up pausing Lance before he could speak. “Está bien, Estoy bien.” (It’s Fine, I’m Fine.) With that, all hell broke loose. So many people spoke at the same time, Lance had to stop them, similarly to how his brother had halted him. “¡Oye! ¡Uno a la vez, Por Favor! (Hey, One at a time please!) 

His mother spoke first, nearly too fast for him to keep up, even though he had grown up speaking the southern tongue his whole life. She repeated in the common tongue. “Lancito, Those men..” She trailed off, eyes wide with fear. Lance swallowed hard, waiting for her to finish. Marco seemed to notice her hesitation and took over. “They were saying crazy things. Stuff of legends. Dragon eggs and Riders.” He snorted, and then winced when the motion tugged on a split lip Lance hadn’t noticed. “Like the Riders haven’t been gone 200 years.” Luis nudged their older brother. “Yeah, that doesn’t mean you can mouth off and call them stupid.”

Lance felt a chill go down his spine. Somehow they knew. It wasn’t a coincidence that right after his dragon hatched the Galra showed up at his home. He closed his eyes and stretched his mind as far as he could. Just on the edge, he felt her brush back. Safe for now. Fear tinted her response, sensing all that Lance was thinking. He apologized for having to stay away, and finally with a painful sigh, told her to stay hidden until it was safe. They both knew it might be a while before he could see her again. 

Nearly two days had passed, and Lance was feeling anxious. He didn’t want to leave his dragon for so long. He could feel her just on the edge of his conscious, their bond continuing to grow even through the separation. He felt her indignation at having to hunt frogs and other small catches, and tried not to giggle at her. His thumb pressed idly into the stained mark on his hand. It made him feel closer to her to touch the mark of their bond, even with it covered.

He was tempted to go out into the forest again when he felt a chill go down his spine. In the distance he could see some strangers heading towards his home. A hand touched his shoulder and Lance nearly jumped out of his skin. So focused he had been on the incoming soldiers he hadn’t heard his mother walk up behind him. “Come.” She said simply. With a final glance back to the men marching down the beach he followed his mother into their home.

His mother yanked him into a firm hug, and he felt her tremble. “Mama?” He questioned, but she just shook her head and shoved something into his arms. Startled, he looked down. A small hunting pack. He could see a bed roll, and many more provisions than he had ever needed to pack before. Confused he looked down at his mother. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. Once again she bundled him into her arms.

“We don’t have a lot of time.” She murmured softly in the common tongue. “They will be here soon for you.” Lance stiffened and tried to pull away, ready to deny it. Her hold tightened. “I won’t let them take you, but you must run.” Quickly she pushed him back, locking eyes with him. His denial dried up in his throat, tears starting to sting at his eyes. In all his imagining of being a rider, he never actually thought he would have to leave his home. And worse, there was no way for him to say goodbye to everyone. “I love you.” He said simply, wishing they had more time. His mother’s throat spasmed as she swallowed hard, still refusing to cry. “Te quiero mucho, Mijo.” (I love you very much son) 

He got to the clearing in record time. Eyes sweeping the forest. A blue head popped out of the ferns, and she chirped at him. Carefully he tucked her into his pack, hiding her from the world. His eyes still burned, but he forced himself to continue onward. At the top of the hill he gazed out at the only home he had ever known. And with a heavy heart he said goodbye to the sea.


	3. Chapter 3- Hitting Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk really just needs a hug...

Hunk had never been much of a runner really. He was good at fleeing his problems. But actually sprinting? For more than a few minutes at a time? Terrible idea. He briefly wondered how anyone would willingly do this to themselves. Then the scent of smoke reached him. He gagged, but nothing came up this time.

He knew if he turned around, he would see the ashes of his village rising. But he didn’t turn. There was no point. His family was gone. His home was gone. His life was gone. He tripped and landed hard, knees bruising beneath him. All he wanted to do was curl up and cry. Fear kept him going though. Whatever destroyed his village, he knew deep down it was after him.

He was deep in the mountains by the time the adrenaline completely faded, leaving him shaking and drained. Hunk’s eyes raked the landscape, looking for any place to camp. He wasn’t super prepared, nor was he skilled in outdoors travel. But he knew enough that he needed shelter first. Then he would worry about food and water. 

Almost absentmindedly he stroked the smooth stone in his bag. Maybe once he got to another village he could trade it for food. He attempted to clear his head and searched harder. Just ahead, he could see a shadow in the cliff face. Maybe a cave if he was lucky. His legs trembled as he stumbled to the spot he hoped to spend the night. 

Hunk grimaced as he got closer to the spot. It was much smaller than he had previously thought. He wasn’t exactly fond of tight spaces, or dark spaces, or caves in general. A chilling wind made up his mind for him. It was going to get colder faster, and he needed a space to spend the night. He got down on his hands and knees and began crawling into the opening. He managed to get half of his body into the cave and then promptly got stuck. 

Hunk tried not to panic, his body tightly wedged halfway into the world’s smallest cave. Thinking quickly, he removed his bag with one arm. The golden stone rolled out just out of his reach, glowing even with Hunk’s body blocking the light from coming in. He didn’t pay any mind to it though. Instead he struggled, his legs churning in the silt as he tried to move in or out. Still stuck. He rested his face on the cool ground. 

He wasn’t sure how long he struggled there, his rear sticking out of the cave. The night air chilled his legs and he struggled to not think about how any creature could come by and take a bite. Completely exhausted, he gave in, and tried to sleep the best he could. He would have to figure out a way out in the morning.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Between the uncomfortable scrape of the stone on his middle, the cold on his rear and the leering hunger; Hunk was barely able to doze off. He had been dreaming about his mother’s Kalua pig when something startled him awake. A few inches from his face, the stone squeaked again. Hunk blearily gawked at it. This really took the cake. First his village burned down, then he got stuck in a cave, and now he was losing his mind thinking a ROCK was making noises at him.

The noises didn’t stop however. If anything they got more vigorous. Soon the stone was shuddering wildly. He couldn’t do anything but stare in shock as it fractured apart. A shadowy figure stretched from within the fragments. A dragon hatchling, with scales as golden as it’s egg had been. 

Hunk did the only reasonable thing when faced with a dragon, even a baby one. He screamed. Loudly. The squat hatchling reared it's head back and locked it’s dark golden eyes on Hunk. It opened it's mouth, shrieked back. “Reeeeeeeeee!” If Hunk didn’t know better, he thought it might have looked pretty proud of itself. He just screamed again, his brain trying desperately to come to grips with his current situation.

After several moments of screeching back and forth, the dragon seemed to grow bored with the little game. It stood up on wobbly legs, and stumbled towards him. Hunk, forgetting the fact he was wedged in a hole still, tried to scramble away. The dragon didn’t seem bothered by this, probably because he couldn’t actually escape it. It’s broad snout reached out and touched his hand. 

It felt like being struck with hundreds of rocks. Like being buried alive, and gasping for air. It felt like dust being kicked up in his face, and like the stones digging into his skin. Hunk wasn’t sure how long he laid there, his body straining to get away from the pain lingering in his veins. Eventually, it faded out leaving a strange silver mark on his hand and a buzz deep in his veins.

Happy. He felt it brush against his mind and he jerked upward, smacking his head into the overhanging rock. Did the dragon just speak with him? The golden dragon chirped happily, and brushed it's warm scales against his hand. He nearly cried at the earnest emotion touching his mind. It was happy to be with him? He focused hard on the lingering presence and brushed back. Me too little guy. Me too.

Hunk was rudely awoken a second time. Not by the dragon, but by something pawing at his legs. He shrieked himself awake, imagining cruel claws and fangs about to pierce him. The dragon remained curled up in his top, hidden from sight sleeping through Hunk’s complete panic. With a firm tug, Hunk was suddenly blinking in the bright morning light.

He turned, bracing himself to face the monster that was about to eat him. “Wait a minute. “You're not a monster!” he blurted out. Standing before him was the largest woman he had ever seen. Her dark skin seemed to glow in the icy morning sunshine and huge rock hoops swung from her ears as she shook her head in amusement. “Nor are you.” Her voice was soft and gentle, offsetting her huge muscles. Hunk continued to stare in awe. He couldn’t believe she had lifted him so easily, not a drop of sweat on her.  
Shay, the giant woman, was kind enough to lead Hunk back to her home. In the time it took for them to get there, Hunk was pretty sure he had fallen in love. Not only was she taller than him, which is something he hadn’t experienced since he was a child, she was the strongest person he had ever met. During their stroll, a large rock had blocked their path, and Hunk had watched wide eyed as she squatted and casually lifted it. Like normal humans could just lift a boulder. Her arm muscles rolled as she easily flipped it to the side of their path, and Hunk was pretty sure his heart was now somewhere in his throat.

While Shay was a literal ray of sunshine, her elder brother Rax was more like a jar of spoiled milk. Hunk had barely caught the end of their argument, with Rax very against a stranger coming into their home. Speaking of their home, Hunk was very surprised to see the pair living in a massive cave. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected. But Shay seemed to love it, and the glowing crystals made her golden eyes shine in such a pretty way.

It took Hunk a surprising amount of time to put it together. Shay and he had been talking about her family, who apparently were out gathering food for breakfast. His stomach had growled so loudly he had missed what she had said. Her soft chuckle reminded him of their conversation, and he pointedly looked down at his stomach, trying to convince it not to sing loudly while a pretty woman spoke with him.

It wasn’t until Shay and Rax’s mother slipped into the main cave that Hunk understood what he had missed. Greda was a literal giant. As in, the species Hunk had been warned eat men raw, and play with their bones. But she had the same soft smile that graced Shay’s face, and the same gentle eyes. So Hunk relaxed and stuck his hand out to shake hers. His mamma raised him to be polite after all.

Rax seemed to deflate when Hunk didn’t pull a pitchfork out of thin air and attack his mother. It all made sense now. Why Rax was so prickly. Why they lived in the mountains away from villages. The whole stronger than a pack of oxen thing. They were half giants. Hunk took a moment to contemplate just how his life got so insane. Then Greda mentioned dinner and he shrugged. Why question fate when there was food to be eaten.


	4. Chapter 3- Take a Hike

Pidge decided she hates horses. She's pretty sure anyone who had been riding for three days straight would have similar opinions on the matter. A fly brushed her grey horse’s flank and he shuddered violently. Her ass protested at the new movements and she gave up. “Okay buddy. I think it’s time for a break.” Joints protesting, she slid from the saddle. The horse didn’t do anything, just bent his neck and started nibbling on grass. “Yeah you do that.” Her snark was basically the only thing unaffected by her travels. Briefly she wondered if she was going crazy, with only a horse and an egg to talk to. Then she shrugged. Crazy wasn’t the worst she could be.

The leaves rustle in the wind far above her head, and she tilted her face up to look. The sun was lower than she had originally thought. Might as well make camp now. The horse finally realizing they were done for the day shifted to a more comfortable position. He knew by now the saddle wouldn’t come off. It was worse for him this way, but Pidge had to be ready to run at any time. Even after three days of near non stop riding, she wasn’t far enough from the Galra to feel safe. Her fingers stroked the green egg in her arms as she considered her travels once more.

Camp wasn’t much to look at. She had to pack lightly, not wanting to weigh the horse down more than necessary. So all she had was a small pack with very little food, some water, and a sleeping roll. Her fingers traced the faint stitching, the shaky lettering making her heart ache. Matt must have been on his embroidery kick when he put his initials into the hide. Just like everything else he had tried, this was a poor attempt. But she could still see the pride in his face when he showed her. Her eyes burned, and she roughly rubbed them. She wouldn’t break down. Rest now, worry on the run.

Light fractured off the leaves overhead, burning through Pidge’s closed eyelids. She groaned loudly, hearing a short snuffle as the horse turned his head towards her. He must have realized this was just part of the morning routine, because shortly after she heard him chewing loudly again. She wasn’t much of a morning person before, but being on the run meant you rose with the sun. Sleepily she rubbed at her eyes, bitterly cursing herself for not packing coffee for this trip. A hot cup would’ve been lovely right about now.

Stiffly she wiggled out of her sleeping bag, and managed to get on her feet. Her vision went blurry for a moment when the pain set in. Stupid. She knew her body had limits of course, but she didn’t think she would reach them so soon. Everything ached, even down to her toenails. Briefly she wondered if she could even force herself back into the saddle. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, she had to push through it. With a slight wobble, she packed up camp and set off.

To distract her aching muscles, and her weary mind, Pidge found herself talking to her horse more. She probably should stop calling it horse, but she wasn’t exactly good with names. She had named her dog Bae Bae after all. Matt had laughed at the stupid name for years, long after Pidge grew up and begged her parents to let her change the name. She shook her head, trying to shake off the memories. The horse, unsurprisingly, didn’t respond to her stories. 

The forest blurred into one green blob as they continued. She knew that soon the horse wouldn’t be able to keep this pace. It would need more than a night’s rest and some grass to recharge. For now, she kept a loose loping speed. Her brother hadn’t been lying when he said that the Olkari tribe were the finest horse breeders. A normal horse couldn’t match their endurance. If used properly, an Olkarian horse could trot all day. 

Pidge glanced up, the trees were thickening, making it harder to see the sun overhead. She guessed it was a little after mid day. The shadows stretched towards them as she urged her horse to slow. Finally, they found a good spot for a break. A small meadow with lush greenery. There was a wall of brambles around it, shielding it from straying eyes, not that there was much of a chance of it here. And most convincing was a small creek running through. Pidge could definitely use a bath after four days of riding.

It didn’t take long for Pidge to unpack her gear, and remove her horse’s saddle. After that she stretched, growling at the pangs it sent through her. Gently, she placed the bag with the egg under a bush and undressed. She hissed at the cold, but forced her body deeper into the water. It wasn’t freezing, but it was chilly enough she couldn’t stay long. Dirt stained her skin darker, and she scrubbed furiously trying not to cry. There was a cracking noise, and she froze, her body straightening. Her eyes traced the edge of the clearing, looking for the intruder.

It wasn’t until there was another louder crack that she realized it was within the clearing. Eyes wide, she stared at the bag. It had fallen away from the egg, revealing it’s trembling. Feet numb, she stumbled out of the creek, falling to her knees in front of the green egg. It shuddered wildly once more and fell still. Then like thunder, a final crack and the egg shattered. Sitting amongst the remains, a delicate green dragon hatchling.

Pidge gaped at the dragon for a heartbeat before her mouth caught up with her mind. “No, No, NO!” She groaned. “Not now! You’re not supposed to hatch now!?” The dragon turned towards her, and sneezed, egg fluid spraying Pidge’s naked body. It ignored her, choosing to sniff around it's shell before stumbling on spindly legs. Pidge nearly smacked her face. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. Oh sure Pidge. Just steal a dragon egg and transport it to the rebels. What could go wrong. She thought wildly.

While she tried to deal with the dilemma she was now in, the dragon continued to explore the meadow. It seemed particularly interested in the horse, but the horse wasn’t having it. Snorting nervously, and stepping away. Pidge sprung into action. She couldn’t be known as the rebel who let her dragon get stomped to death by a freaking horse. She quickly ran over and scoped the dragon into her hands.

Pain sparked down her hand where she touched the hatchling. It felt like vines growing through her veins, like she was being consumed by nature itself. It felt like the life and death of a forest. She tried to scream in pain, but found herself unable to even blink. After countless heartbeats, the pain faded, leaving a bright silver mark on her hand. She stared down at the hatchling still firmly clasped in her arms. It cooed gently, and she felt something brush her mind. Stunned again, she fell on her ass, dust flying up over her still naked body.

The hatchling was amazing. She could feel it, like a second conscious, foreign but at the same time, like she was finally whole. It’s mind was nearly infinite, and she briefly wondered if she would go insane trying to explore it. The brush was back, attempting to soothe her fears. Tears ran down her cheeks as she brushed back. She was a dragon rider now. 


	5. Chapter 4- All Fired Up

A wet nose to the ear was never a pleasant way to wake up. Keith grumbled, shoving his wolf away. “I’m up. I’m up!” He muttered. The sun had yet to rise, the horizon barely lit in the distance. Aching, Keith sat up. The warmth of his sleeping wrap fell away, and the added chill of the early morning further woke him. He shot the wolf a half hearted glare before standing to stretch.

The glade he had chosen to camp in was still, with just the wolf disturbing the quiet. It grumbled up at him, pawing at the ground. “Yeah, well I’m hungry too. Have you tried hunting.” A grumble in response. “I will take that as a no.” He shot back. The wolf wagged it’s tail, as if it understood his grouchy tone meant nothing. Keith shoved his hair out of his face. With another half hearted glare at the creature, he proceeded to pack up camp. No sense in wasting daylight.

Traveling on foot was slow, but Keith’s horse had gone lame in the early months of his search. Unwilling to stop, and unable to buy another, he had continued his travels without it. He checked the lines on his wrist. Another month and it would be a full year since Shiro had gone missing. He kicked a rock, and eyed his surroundings. “Maybe East this time?” He asked. The wolf cocked it's head, one ear flopping down as it did so. “Or do you think we should travel North first?” He continued. The wolf paused, as if considering his question seriously. It huffed and stood up. “North it is.”

In the months of traveling by foot, Keith had come across many creatures he never would’ve believed in. He rubbed his shoulder, the scar forming ridges beneath his shirt. An accidental run in with a Nagra. The wild boar had nearly killed Keith before he was able to run his dagger into it’s eye. Keith had been less worried about dying, and more the delay caused by his need to heal.

It was because of the attack that Keith had even found the wolf. A pup, nearly at maturity, he had heard it's cries as he drug himself away from the massive corpse. Swaying from blood loss, he had panicked, thinking himself dead. Instead of another attacker though, he had found the wolf. It’s leg had been broken by the boar. Keith had nearly put it out of it’s misery, unsure he could save it. Something in it’s eyes made him hesitate though.

He had approached it with caution, fearful of it’s nature. A cornered injured animal was at it’s most dangerous. The wolf hadn’t even snarled at him however. Merely gazed into his eyes and whimpered. Thankful that his father had known the land he traveled, he was able to find some herbs to put the animal to sleep while he worked. It was exhausting, setting the leg. But now seeing the wolf run free on four legs he was grateful he took the time.

Ever since they had healed together deep in the forest, Keith had a constant companion. At first he had been annoyed, not wanting to have to take care of something else. The wolf proved invaluable though. It brought him spare game, freeing their time to just travel. Plus, he noted the dead snake beside it. It was good protection. Deep down he thought of another reason to keep the wolf. It was nice to have a friend.

As they traveled through the land, Keith was left to his own thoughts. Against his will, they turned towards Shiro again. He felt the same sharp pain as always when he thought of his friend. It was almost worse not knowing what had happened to him. If Keith had been given a body, at least he could mourn. The not knowing though.. That was terrible.

Keith was just a boy when his father had died. His mother hadn’t been apart of their lives for years before. Dead or not, it didn’t matter. Keith was alone. With no family, he had been tossed to the streets to die. But Keith had always been a fighter. He had struggled, stolen, and did what he had to to survive. And then Shiro came into his life.

A young cadet in Zarkon’s army, Shiro was the kind of person Keith had learned to avoid. But when he had been caught stealing bread, Shiro hadn’t dragged him out to beat him like the others. His eyes had flashed, stone cold to the shop owner. With barely disguised fury, he had tossed coins to the keep, enough for twenty loaves. Then he had sat with Keith, watching him scarf down the food.

Shiro had kind eyes. That was what Keith had noticed. His eyes had stayed soft as he watched over the boy. And then he had done the unthinkable. He had taken Keith home with him. A home. Something he hadn’t had since his father’s death. Shiro had saved Keith. Tears streamed down his face. He was going to return the favor. He was going to find his brother, and he was going to bring him home.

It was the wolf who had saved him, again. Sharp fangs caught his wrist, hauling him back. So lost in the past, Keith failed to notice the fact that the forest was burning ahead. Keith stared in horror. The wolf cringed back, whining loudly. Before either of them could react, an explosion sent them flying backward.

Sucking in air desperately, Keith gazed up at the smokey sky, dazed. He managed to roll to his side, and reaching out touched gray fur. “You okay?” He asked. The wolf grunted, and struggled to it’s feet. Keith struggled to follow, his body sluggish from the stunning force before. He was surprised to see the flames hadn’t reached any further. He also noted there was nothing that should’ve caused an explosion. Curious, he took a few steps forward. The wolf shifted, but didn’t snarl.

It was easy to see where the explosion originated from. A ring of embers still flickered, as if the ground was going to burst into flames at any moment. At the center, a crater was formed in the earth. Keith peered into it, and froze. At the heart, a flame burned. That in itself shouldn’t have been odd, except there was nothing to burn there. The flames seemed to part before him, and he stared at the glowing red stone at the center. As if possessed, Keith reached out. The flames split around his hand, flickering without burning him. 

The stone was warm, but not so hot as to burn his skin as he held it. It was strange, he could almost feel a heartbeat echoing his own pulse. A growl made him pause his study of the stone. The wolf was standing, legs locked and fur raised. A glance told Keith the forest fire was raging closer. “Alright, let’s get out of here.” He said. He was about to drop the stone back into the pit, but something made him pause. Shrugging, he tucked it into his pack. What was the harm in taking it with him? 


End file.
